Private Hell

Closer than close - you see yourself

A mirrored image - of what you wanted to be

As each day goes by - a little more

You can't remember - what it was you wanted anyway

The fingers feel the lines - they prod the space

Your ageing face - the face that once was so beautiful

Is still there but unrecognizable

Private Hell

The man who you once loved - is bald and fat

And seldom in - working late as usual

Your interest has waned - you feel the strain

The bed springs snap - on the occasions he lies upon you

Close your eyes and think of nothing but

Private Hell

Think of Emma - wonder what she's doing

Her husband Terry - and your grandchildren

Think of Edward - who's still at college

You send him letters - which he doesn't acknowledge

'Cause he don't care

They don't care

'Cause they're all going through their own - Private Hell

The morning slips away - in a valium haze

And catalogues - and numerous cups of coffee

In the afternoon - the weekly food

Is put in bags - as you float off down the high street

The shop windows reflect - play a nameless host

To a closet ghost - a picture of your fantasy

A victim of your misery - and Private Hell

Alone at 6 o'clock - you drop a cup

You see it smash - inside you crack

You can't go on - but you sweep it up

Safe at last inside your Private Hell

Sanity at last inside your Private Hell